Alone In The Darkness

by Matthew Buza

  Jennifer exited the bar and rounded the corner. A minute later the headlights of her car pulled up to the street and turned right disappearing out of the camera’s vision.

  “Can you go back and play that again?” Conners asked. Amy scrolled back the video to when the shadow walked across the street. Conners looked at the other officer, “What are the heights on the two guys?”

  The officer looked down into his notebook, “The Portland guy is almost 6’4” and Steven is about 5’10”.”

  Conners peered at the screen, “Well that doesn't look like a guy that's almost six and a half feet tall.”

  Amy looked at the screen unsure what they were looking for, “Who do you think it is?”

  “Would you mind giving us a shot of the bar before you arrived?”

  Amy keyed in the changes and the screen updated. The monitor now showed the bar counter where Jennifer was working. Ahead were a number of people enjoying their drinks. A man got up from the back end of the bar and walked down the line towards the camera. He turned and disappeared under the camera’s view.

  Conners pointed out the screen, “Can you pause it here?”

  Amy stop the recording and looked up at the monitor. “Who is that?”

  Conners turned to the officer, “Do you have a photo?”

  “Yeah, it's here in my notebook,” the officer fanned the pages, pulled the image, and handed it to Conners.

  Conners raised the image to the monitor so that the faces could be compared, “I think that's Steven.”

  “I agree,” said the other officer.

  They let the video play through and they saw that Steven left shortly before Jennifer got off of her shift. They flipped back to the camera outside and they saw that Steven exited the bar and went off camera. The footage looped back to show Jennifer returning to the bar and the shadow figure crossing the street to where her car was parked.

  Conners broke the silence, “Do you think we would be able to get a copy of this video?”

  “I would have to ask the owner, but I don't see a reason why not to,” answered Amy. “I will let him know and we can send it over to you in a day or so. He knows how to save the video, otherwise it overwrites the old video.”

  Officer Conners reached into his back pocket and pulled out his business card and handed it to Amy, “Just contact the department and let them know it's for me and they'll run the video into evidence.”

  Amy quietly held the business card in her hand, “Do you think she's Ok?”

  Officer Conners looked down, “I don't know, but we're looking, and that is best we can do right now. If you hear anything or if you remember anything else please let us know. You have my card.”

  The three officers thanked Amy and walked out of the room down the bar and out into the night.

  Amy slowly sat down in the chair and put her arms on the desk. She stared across the room at the empty wall. She pulled out her cell phone and opened up a text message. She typed in Jennifer and composed a new message to her. After hitting send she turned the screen off, put her head into her hands, and began to cry. Somewhere along a dark country road a phone sitting in tall grass buzzed to life. After a moment the screen went dark and the message was lost to the night.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  “I'll be there within the hour.” Vadym ended the call. He stood quietly in the small kitchen. The house was dark as his wife and son slept down the hall. His finger stroked the wipe cloth on the sink edge as he waited for the address to be sent. His breathing was steady and deep. The phone buzzed to life and he read the message. He swiped and sent a response. He placed the phone down onto the counter and rubbed his forehead with the palm of hand as he arched his back opening his chest to the ceiling. His lungs exhaled in a deep sigh as he walked across the room and down the hall.

  He entered a small room and flipped the light switch. A ceiling light turned on and the fan blades began to spin slowly. The walls were lined with dark wood bookcases stacked with old novels and magazines. Across the room was a desk that contained stacks of old notebooks and papers. He crossed the room and reached behind the open closet door. His arm lifted out a dull green military duffle bag. He placed the bag across the desk pulling the chair to the side.

  Vadym returned to the closet and pulled down two storage boxes. He opened the lids and pulled out a roll of clear plastic and a bundle of tools. Both items were placed in the bag. He then placed a container full of surgical gloves and gowns as well as a rain set. He reached down and pulled open the main drawer of the desk and rummaged through. His arm moved through the material and pulled up a small collapsible saw.

  From behind Vadym a small hand rested on the door knob. The weight of the child’s body pushed against the door causing it to release a soft creak. Vadym spun around still holding onto the saw. The boy’s voice was soft as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, “Daddy, why are you up?”

  “Pash, go back to bed.”

  “The light was on.”

  “Go back with your mom.”

  “She sleeps too loud.”

  Vadym’s patience was waning as he walked over to his son, kneeling before him, “Go back to sleep. Lay with your mamma.”

  “What is that?” The boy motioned to the saw in his hand.

  “Daddy is just cleaning up his office.” He stood and walked across the room placing the saw into the bag. He turned back to his son. He reached down and the boy was in his arms. He rested his head against his shoulder as he entered the master bedroom. A woman was sleeping in the bed covered by a light sheet and wearing a cream slip.

  The father leaned close to his son’s ear, “Go with mom.”

  He lowered the boy into the bed. He carefully lifted the sheet and pushed the boy close to his mother. Instinctively she slid over and placed her arm around the boy. The two were fast asleep before Vadym made it back to the office.

  He continued to load up the bag and carried it out the back entry of the house. He reset the alarm and walked out of the house along the driveway to the garage at the back of the property. He passed two parked cars and entered through the side. He pulled the key out from the cabinet shelf and tossed the bag into the trunk of the car. He reached up on the wire shelf and pulled down a stack of storage bins and a large bottle of bleach. From under the back cabinet he pulled a new set of boots fresh out of the package and placed them in the car. He fell into the driver seat and turned the ignition. The car was only used on special occasions and struggled on its first two attempts. The car woke to life and Vadym turned on the head lights and pulled out of the driveway speeding off down the street. The garage door slowly lowered behind him finishing its ghostly action alone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Jennifer sat silently against the wall of the room. Her back leaned against the open drywall and she rested her head against a cold stud. Her head hung down providing relief to her hands bound behind her. She squeezed her fingers together and pulled, but there was still no give. She felt a numbness as she rhythmically clicked her finger nails. Above Jennifer’s head, light shown through the dirty window. Dust danced, floated, and swirled on the light beams. She had been lost in the hypnotic movement. Feeling her own mind drifting through the air. Across the room laid the motionless body of the man with his feet buried in stacks of papers and trash. Her eyes purposefully avoided the scene.

  Jennifer took in a large breath and began to slowly slide her way towards the door. She balanced using her arms pulling herself backwards through the room. She reached the wall along the door and peered out into the hall. The light from outside moved through the front door windows, illuminating the grain of the wood molding. She saw the marks made on the floor from the man. Channels were carved in the dust through old footsteps and hand prints.

  Along the base of the wall were crumpled baggies and syringes. The accumulation of lint and dust revealed their age. Further down the hall she could see the house open up to a living room. Along the side of the hallway a half wall formed a
darkened cave. Jennifer peered into the darkness as two eyes slowly opened and stared down the hall towards her. A woman was huddled in the corner covered with a rotting blanket. Jennifer could see her eyes moving in rhythm as her head bobbed and shook gently. Her face was cuddled in the blanket obscuring her nose and mouth as her long greasy hair flowed down her side.

  Jennifer stared at the woman and whispered through the cut in the tape, “Help.” There was no answer. She repeated again and lightly rapped her head against the door with a hollow thud. The woman clenched her body as a shiver took over. She looked up slowly to the entry way. Jennifer repeated her call and knocked the door again. The woman continued to pan across and meet Jennifer’s eyes. They were heavy and sunken and she made no movement. Jennifer continued to speak out to her but there was no reaction. The woman was distant and empty. Jennifer stopped her efforts. She knew there was no hope with this vacant creature. What was this place, Jennifer thought, and why had they dumped her into this home with these people?

  She rested her head on the door jamb still staring across at the woman. Her eyes quickly shifted to the main room. They widened and Jennifer could see the bloodshot whites of her eyes. Her head sank further into the blanket and she pulled back into the corner. Jennifer felt a slight tremor beneath the wooden floor and a stomping sound from the hallway. With her knee she closed the door to just a crack. Her single eye peered through the opening as a tall lanky figure stumbled into view. He swayed unnaturally in the hall, his thin legs protruding from torn shorts. He stumbled and continued on to an adjacent room. Panicked breathing took over again in anticipation of confronting another person. She had dealt with the man on the floor but he didn't move with the same force. The man walking down the hall could have his way with her. She closed the door to the room and slid over to the trash. She kicked an empty box against the door and moved back to the corner. At a minimum she wanted to know if someone were to walk into the room. Not that it would make a difference, but she didn't want to wake up to a fresh face staring at her.

  For a while Jennifer stared at the door knob expecting it to turn and reveal the man from the hall. The minutes rolled by and the house remained silent as Jennifer’s mind began to relax. She thought her of grandmother sitting on the couch watching television and laughing about the day. In that moment she regretted being so aloof in her phone conversation in the car. She would give anything to see her again and talk about stupid shows, to see her friends at the coffee stand, and serve drinks at the bar. She wished for the mundane tasks of washing glasses and swiping credit cards, hearing the harmless flirting and obnoxious drunks.

  Her mind drifted to the cruise boat. It would be the first vacation since driving with her family to Disney. She had seen the cruise brochure at a diner about a week after arriving at her grandmother’s. Her bruised eye was still hiding behind her sunglasses as she waited to be seated. The images of the rooms, piles of food, and the happy people dancing on the deck. She wanted to be there. She knew it would be a struggle, she had always fought money. They were on and off friends. Living down in Portland with RT meant she didn't need to think or worry about money or responsibilities. Her grandmother had set rules for moving back in and Jennifer had no choice but to adhere. It was hard going in the first few weeks. She struggled to find jobs and accept the monotony of her new daily routine. It had been months and she was, only now, finding her path. Her grandmother even noticed and told her to do something for herself. Jennifer had saved the brochure and brought it up one night after dinner. Her grandmother agreed that it would be good for her to go and encouraged her to start saving.

  Sitting in that room bound by twine and tape she could still dream of the trip. She could see herself standing on the balcony wrapped in a blanket sipping a drink and watching the misty blue morning rise in the Alaskan fjords. She could taste the coffee as she licked her lips through the tape on her mouth as her hair blew in the breeze. Her bound hands rested over the railing. She smiled as she heard seagulls flying overhead and the boat moved through the black water. The light in the dream began to fade and the sound of distant popping gravel and headlights pulled Jennifer into reality.

  Above Jennifer's head a beam of light shone through the window and cast shadows on the wall. Light shadows moved from left to right as the car turned up the drive into the front of the main house. Jennifer lifted herself up against the wall and craned her neck. Her head met the windowsill and her right eye could see high enough to view the car shifting into park. The headlights turned off and the door opened. A thin young man stood up, shut the door, and quickly trotted up to the front of the house and walked in.

  Jennifer slumped down to the floor and stared out across the room. With the arrival of a new person she renewed her attempts to break the bindings. She quickly scanned the room and saw the power cord stretching out from the trash pile. She slid over to the pile and began to kick. What emerged was a shadeless lamp. She saw the light bulb at the end of the lamp. She shifted her body and lifted her legs. Her feet came down smashing the bulb. She paused, her ears searching for any hint of discovery. It was silent. Her body shot around and she began to saw at her bindings with the protruding glass piece. As she rocked her hands back-and-forth she could feel the glass on the ground grinding along her fingernails and wrists. Sharp stabs of pain went through her fingers as she moved too quick catching some glass across the skin.

  Jennifer was cutting when she heard the pop of the screen door on the neighboring house. A male voice was talking and it was growing louder by the moment. She paused and turned her head to the window. The voice was moving in her direction. A man was on his way to the house. She doubled her efforts and moved with a passion. Her hand nicked the glass pieces causing her to wince as small trickles of blood ran down her fingers and onto the floor. She could feel the bindings starting to fray and break.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Nick pulled up to the house. He reached into the back of his car and pulled a small duffle bag into his lap. The bag contained two handguns wrapped in a shirt along with a magnetic metal box. Nick’s paranoia had increased over the last few weeks when delivering finished units for distribution. His job was delivery to and from the house. As it was explained to him, “You're a jackass. Understand? A car mule. Drive slow, drive responsible, and always deliver. You're an in and out man. Raw product in, finished product out.” He took the liability and risk in transportation. His deliveries had been increasing in size and value along with his paranoia. For Nick, a hundred grand of drugs in the car increased the risk of bodily harm, and the guns were his way of cooling that fear. The box was a tax on transportation. A skimmer by nature he felt he deserved more than his normal wage.

  He sat for a brief moment staring forward at the collection of cars and the flickering porch light. He pulled his hand to his face and took the last drag of his cigarette. He flicked the butt out of the window, the orange end glowing and spinning in the night. He was late to work and he knew he would get an earful from Tyler. His teeth pulled back on his lower lip and he closed his eyes. His finger pulled back on the lever and the window began to roll up closing him in. He opened the door and quickly walked up the porch with his small bag in tow.

  “Sorry I’m late,” He said clearing a small path between bags and boxes. He lowered his head preparing for the onslaught that never came.

  From the other side of the room Tyler coiled his body to see Nick, “I need you and Steven on bud sorting and med setup.” Nick’s face softened to Tyler’s tone. The verbal beating never came. He shifted between Steven and Kora who had not turned to greet him. Their heads were down and busy cutting material, processing, and bagging.

  “Good evening to you all too. Lover’s quarrel?” His arm arced the room. His sarcasm was ignored as he dropped his bag against the wall. There was a dull clattering of metal on metal as the bag settled. Everyone was too busy working to notice the odd sound.

  “You’re fucking late.” Tyler said. Nick’s mouth curled slig
htly, he knew Tyler would have something to say.

  “I’m here now amigo.”

  “Where have you been? You knew when we were starting tonight. I tell you that time and you need to be here at that time or you don’t have a job.”

  “Hey man, I know I’m late. I fell asleep this afternoon and woke late. I got my shit together and hurried out, but I had to drop a friend off and it took longer than I anticipated. I was texting Kora to let you know. Hey that’s responsible right there. I didn’t keep you in the dark.”

  Tyler was now fully turned and facing Nick, “You’re a shit liar Nick. A fucking child’s art painting on your face.”

  “Hey, I’m telling you the truth, but I’m here. Just forget about it, time to sort some bud right? I am on it. Bud, bud and more bud. I love sorting bud.”

  Tyler saw his arms lift and his palms to the ceiling. It was Nick’s tell and Tyler’s blood began to boil. He crossed the room and pressed Nick up against the wall. The kitchen fell silent as Tyler commanded full attention, “I can’t deal with your childish shit tonight. I’ve got more to deal with than you can imagine and I’m not going to blow cycles listening to you. You will not be the next spur in my ass.”

  Nick’s head turned, not making eye contact, “Alright man, I’m here. Let’s just do some work.”

  Tyler backed off and navigated his way through the kitchen mess to the counter.

  Nick looked at the back of the three heads in the kitchen. “What’s going on tonight? Y’all look like you're pissed off or something. Are we getting shares cut or having to pull doubles again?”

  Tyler’s head didn’t move as his hands continued to scoop fine powder form the mixing bag into small marked wax baggies. “This fuck,” Tyler blindly pointed to Steven, “Decided it was time to play bandito.”